


unease

by reidoesthewrite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, trigger warning: brief mention of suicide, trigger warning: mentions of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 00:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidoesthewrite/pseuds/reidoesthewrite
Summary: In which Akaashi learns to move on and seek closure.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! please take note that there are mentions of violence in this fic, so please do not proceed if you're uncomfortable with such mentions!

What should one do to ease the guilt that has taken root inside their heart?

Struggle?

Ignore it?

Realistically speaking, accepting it would be the easiest — that acceptance, though painful, would bring brief respite for the guilt that had made itself home in his heart.

Being a detective was never easy, with the viewing countless of crime scenes, as well as long hours, it was a job taxing on both the mind and body. However, what bugs him the most were the thought of losing you in the various manner victims were discovered in. It made his skin crawl, to have such a thought cross his mind like that. Yet he believed that it would not happen to either of you.

Call it imagination, or sheer denial, but it didn’t seem possible for such a thing to happen.

Because even with the close proximity of working with henious crimes, Akaashi had successfully managed to keep himself dissociated from his job. Not only did that entail not entangling his own emotions into the cases he was investigating, it also meant that outside of his job, detective Akaashi was no longer existent. He is only a normal man, and there was no reason for something that terrible to happen to either of you.

He was simply overthinking. 

“Sir?”

Cold sweat beads at his forehead as he stares at your cherry red skin, the colour blossoming with ease all around your body. The room seemed to be enclosing in onto him, his throat dry and hoarse. 

His first thought is to touch your body, to turn you over completely and take a good long look, because there was just _no way_ that was you. But an odd sensation running through his body made him pause. The fear swimming within him was growing rapidly, and he knew that if it was you that he saw… then he couldn’t even _deny_ that the body in front of him was you.

A hand lands on his shoulder, jolting him out of his shock. 

“Is something the issue?” The rookie detective next to him tugs at his shoulder, tense brows mixed with confusion pulling at his facial features. Akaashi takes a look at him, before returning his gaze to the body, the ache in his heart blooming, consuming every part of his body. 

The words just wouldn’t leave his lips, a simple ‘I’m alright’, suddenly seemed as though they had weighed a ton, pressing down on his tongue, causing a queasy sensation to spread in his mouth.

Instead, Akaashi stands up with quick fervour, the lump in his throat now threatening to push its way upwards, the tears behind his eyes burning with desire to escape. His vision was blurry as he pushed past the rookie detective, teeth clenched together — so tight— it was almost as though he would ground them to dust. The blood rushing to his ears cleared a little, just as he tried to suppress the sob rising in his throat. 

_Not now_ , Akaashi thinks. _Not in here._

But then he hears it. That one nonchalant yet heavy sentence was more than enough to make him run, and now, instead of a sob rising in his throat, it was bile. 

“It’s probably suicide.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life works in unexpected ways... Sometimes a single clue is enough to shatter the 'truth' that you know.

Of the different stages of grief, the one that settled the most deeply, and engraved itself into his bones was anger. 

There was so much to be angry for; at himself — for not noticing any signs of oddity leading to this outcome, at you; for not confiding in him and letting him shoulder your burden, and at the world; for it never stopped spinning even for your death, everything remained as it was, as if you were just another stone that caused a minor ripple in people's lives before completely disappearing. 

The days that followed after your death was no less torturous than when he had discovered your body. You lingered everywhere; the entirety of the apartment was covered with traces of you. It was as though he could see your lithe figure gliding around the kitchen with ease, tossing a random vegetable at him as he attempted to sneak a bite of the food; as though he could feel your warmth as he hugged you from the back as you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, his hands playfully sliding under your shirt as he hints at another round under the sheets; as though he could see your hunched back and furrowed brows at the office desk, a serious woman at work. The couch, a place that once spelt comfort and ease was now the place he least wanted to remain at — he wants to get it out of his sight, yet, he couldn't bear to. 

It was this tug of war, this turmoil that never ceased, that constantly wore him down. Akaashi was a living human; yet he was also just like a man who has lost his soul, just like the undead. To watch him spiral down into such oblivion was a painful thing to do, and while he knew he shouldn't continue on like this, he couldn't extract himself from it. It was a vortex, he was constantly pulled in, stuck in motion. So he never stays in the apartment anymore. A marriage of convenience with his job, was the only way he could get a breather from feeling like he was drowning in guilt and in your presence. 

Sometimes he wonders; are you aware of everything that has happened after your death? Why do you still have such a strong hold on him? Are you, watching at him agonise over your death, playfully teasing him to remind him of his incapability as a detective, as a man, as a lover, in protecting you from harm? Do you blame him? Why won't you let him go? 

If there is one thing that stands out in this world that has been washed black and white by your death, it is the colour red. Your blood, the colour of your skin.... it was red. Everything was red. 

He hates it. But he loves it too. The vibrancy, when contrasted with your pale, ghastly skin, was a sight he could never forget. Wouldn't it be a lovely colour to dye himself in, when it came to his death? The death of two individuals, so in love, one from her own will and one from his guilt... sounds like a fitting end to this tragic tale.

"Akaashi?" Bokuto waves a hand in front of him, the worry in his eyes a stark contrast from his playful nature.

"...Yes?" 

"I know you don't want to be reminded of her death..." Bokuto sighs, spitting out the words with a hint of anxiety, "But I think you should know about this."

Akaashi's mouth presses into a straight line, his gaze darkening. 

"Bokuto-san.... don't you think I have been tortured enough?"

"... I'm aware, but I need to let you know this. Take it as the duty of a fellow detective, its a human-"

"Of course I know it is a human life here! Wouldn't I be the clearest about this?"

"No, in your eyes, its more than a human life. While understandable, what I meant was that this concerns more than just her life, others are at stake too."

"You see..." he heaves a sigh, fixing his gaze on the haggard man in front of him. 

"Her death is unlikely a suicide. There are other evidence that suggest the interference of a third party..."

"In other words, its murder."


End file.
